revolution: of rebellion and ferris wheels
by oneoffour111
Summary: Five times Finnick and Johanna held hands...and one time they couldn't.  Written for the prompt "Johanna/Finnick, holding hands" at the Hunger Games Drabble Meme.


**Title:** revolution (of rebellion and ferris wheels)

**Word Count:** 828

**Rating:** K+

**Characters/pairings:** Finnick/Johanna

**Summary:** Five Times Finnick and Johanna Held Hands (And One Time They Couldn't)

**Author's Notes:** Done for the **Hunger Games Drabble Meme** on Livejournal, hosted by **red_brunja**.

**Additionally:** So. I haven't read the books in months and therefore I have only vague ideas of what's in character and what's not, but that didn't stop me from writing fic for my bbs Finnick and Johanna. Un-beta'd, unpolished, etc. Enjoy!

[Suggested Listening: _Turn Off The Lights_ by Nelly Furtado.]

**revolution (of rebellion and ferris wheels)**

**1.** People always hesitate to touch him at first, probably because of his status as handsome but not so wholesome heartbreaker. He does have quite the reputation, he knows that-he _encourages_ it, even-but the truth is, he hasn't loved anyone since Annie. He's not sure if that's healthy, especially for a guy who's supposed to be the number one playboy in all of Panem, but it's true.

So when he and Johanna bump into each other outside the control room and she doesn't shrink back when he grabs her hand to steady her balance, he smiles. Johanna Mason might be a sassy know-it-all sometimes, he thinks, but she's always a breath of fresh air.

**2.** They become co-conspirators, the two of them. And before all of it-the plans, the Quarter Quell, the star-crossed lovers of District 12-there is a handshake.

**3.** "It's hard to tell which you have less of, muscles or brains," Johanna teases, because sometimes it's just easier to focus on anything but the growing rebellion. "What are you even doing here? Why are you wasting your time on probably pointless strategy with an old friend from District 7 here when you could be partying all night long?"

He looks up from his diagrams, and the lightbulb flickers. "Are you kidding?" Finnick replies. "Nowhere I'd rather be." He flashes a rueful grin and sighs, because they both know how artificial that was. "But what was that? In the beginning there? Something about muscles?" Johanna nods. "Yeah, okay. How about a contest? Arm wrestling was all the rage while I grew up, and it's probably more appropriate than full-on grappling right now. Though I'm always available for you, Johanna, just remember that." He's flirting, and he assumes it's just habit until he realizes that he hasn't felt like this-genuine-for forever. Johanna smiles.

And that's how Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason sat in a cramped bunker in District 13 at a terrible hour of the morning and arm wrestled until they were too tired to arm wrestle any longer.

**4.** It's so dark. It's so dark in that tunnel, getting ready to break into the Capitol's headquarters and secure the information they need _without getting caught_, and Johanna has always been the fierce one who gets through everything on her own, but it's seriously suffocating her. She's going to be swallowed up by this endless black. She is.

She's just decided that she can't handle it any longer, she's going to _scream_ if she has to, when Finnick reaches over and takes her hand. And the darkness is repelled and then it's all okay.

**5.** "I think we should pray," he says. It's just under an hour before the start of the third Quarter Quell, and they're saying goodbye to the sun. Johanna glances over, ready to laugh at the feeble joke, but then catches a glimpse of his face. He's serious.

"Are you kidding?" she starts. "With everything, all the terrible things that have happened, you think there's even a slight chance that there's something in control of it all?"

His sea foam green eyes don't blink. Johanna tilts her head. "You're not kidding."

"Think about it," he says, "would you be doing everything you are if you didn't believe there was something bigger than us, something even bigger than the Capitol," and here's where she shoots him a look saying _hello, idiot, video cameras all around_, but he's still going. "I think we both know that there's someone watching us, maybe even watching over us. I'm not sure who it is yet, but I know someone's there."

So she shrugs and steps closer, tentatively, and they hold hands and pray for survival. They yearn for freedom, and they hope for escape, and they pray that it will turn out okay.

Sometimes there's nothing to do but take a step back and hope. They've done that, and the rest is up to the future.

**1.** For the first time, he's in District 13 without her. He doesn't like it, not at all.

In fact, right then, there's nothing he wants more than to hold her hand. Forget the Capitol, forget the whole world-he remembers the feel of her fingers, calloused from throwing those axes every day (where'd that get her, huh? He tries to tell himself he's not as bitter as he sounds, but decides it's not worth it) and so familiar. He thinks back to the time they stood out in the sun, the last time they were alone together, and remembers the other thing he'd prayed for.

He'd prayed for the girl who was brave, the girl who was clever, the girl who was _so strong_. The girl he'd fallen in love with, slowly but surely, like riding to the top of a Ferris wheel.

Johanna Mason.

If only he didn't have to return to the ground.


End file.
